The Day You Walked Away
by jam821
Summary: On the verge of starting something new, Beckett accepts Castle's invitation to the Hampton's only to have Gina arrive before he can reply. The lonely summer stretches ahead but that's not the last Kate sees of Castle or his family. An AU Season Two ending and Summer 2014 Ficathon entry.
1. Chapter 1

_A Summer 2014 Ficathon Entry_

_This picks up during the Season Two finale "A Deadly Game" and goes AU from there. You'll see some familiar dialogue in this chapter. Also, this is rated T for now but will be moving up to M in later chapters. I will give a warning when that happens. _

* * *

Chapter 1

He's leaving.

He's actually leaving and she has no idea if he's coming back.

"_Whatever the reason is…I'm pretty sure it doesn't include watching you be with another guy."_

Espo's words echo in her head, round and round on an endless loop. She'd chosen Tom, so there was no reason for Castle to come back. He doesn't want to see her with someone else.

Except.

Tom isn't right. He doesn't sound right, doesn't smell right, doesn't bring the right coffee, doesn't make her laugh.

"_I don't think that this is what I'm looking for right now."_

She ends things with Tom. Ends things before they really begin because it isn't right and it isn't what she wants. Tom isn't who she wants.

But Castle…

She's scared. Terrified to tell him how she feels, that she wants to give it a shot. Them. Give _them_ a shot. But the alternative – not telling him – is so much worse because he might not come back.

And she can't live with that.

So it's time. Man up, Kate Beckett.

* * *

She breezes through the open doorway, confident, cool, and collected, and heads straight for the metal box serving as a makeshift cooler full of beer bottles. He teases her because that's what he does and she's brave, teases him back right there in front of everyone.

"Oh, I don't need to drink to take him."

It shocks him, if the look on his face is anything to go by. He may have thought they were through, that she didn't care, but he couldn't be more wrong.

His surprise gives her strength. She's knocked him off balance and he's easier to handle that way, it's easier to push past her fear. It's now or never.

"Castle, do you have a second?"

"Of course." He jumps up, never hesitates to come when she calls, and she waits by the door, closing it behind them once he passes. A whiff of his cologne trails behind him and the scent is just right. It's intoxicating, infusing her with confidence because he is what she wants.

"What's up?" His words are normal, easygoing. He doesn't suspect – or doesn't want to assume anything – and she feels her nerves set in.

Her heart beats faster, hands shaking as she worries the bottle cap between her fingers. "Look, I know that I'm not the easiest person to get to know and I don't always let on what's on my mind-"

The corners of his lips lift in a smile, a beautiful smile that he never hesitates to share. She's terrified, but he makes her feel safe, makes what she's about to say okay, and pushing past the knots in her stomach, a sense of peace descends.

"But this past year, working with you, I've had a really good time."

"Yeah, me too."

There. The first part is out. Step one, tell him he's appreciated, that he matters.

And now for step two, tell him he's wanted.

"So I'm just gonna say this..." Looking away, just for a second, she sucks in an uneven breath. His eyes are so blue, his smile so incredibly bright, and she blurts the next part out before it lodges too deep within her throat. "I was wondering if the invitation was still open."

"What?"

The furrow of his brow is adorable, his confusion clear as day, and she feels stronger now that it's been said.

"I want to go to the Hamptons with you." The clarification floats off her tongue, nothing suppressing her confidence.

His mouth drops open, the answer she desperately needs to hear balancing on the tip of his tongue–

"Richard, you ready?"

Wait, what?

Turning to look over his shoulder at the interruption, he stutters, "Hey…Gina."

Like an observer at tennis match, his head twists back and forth between them, apparently unable to work out who should hold his attention, and then Gina steps up next to him.

She's too close to him, too comfortable by his side, and Kate's stomach knots back up.

"Beckett, you remember Gina, my ex-wife."

"And publisher." Gina rolls her eyes as she says the words, sticking her hand out for Beckett to shake. She does so on autopilot, the confusion and dread running rampant through her veins. The guilty expression contorting Castle's face is too prominent for this to just be a business meeting.

Forcing her voice to reflect the nonchalance she wishes she felt, Kate pretends as if she hasn't just torn down her walls and revealed her vulnerable core to him. "Yeah, we spoke the other day. It looks like you finally tracked him down."

"Oh, yeah. He's such a little boy sometimes. I mean I don't know why," Gina smiles innocently, her arm sliding into the crook at Castle's elbow, seemingly oblivious to the mounting tension in the room.

Risking a glance at Castle, Kate catches him staring back at her, eyes wide, body frozen like a deer in headlights.

"It's not like I bite. Much." Rolling her eyes again, Gina's lips lift into a conspiratorial smile, like she's sharing a secret with Kate, before she turns her attention to Castle. "But we better get going or we're going to be stuck in traffic all night."

Wait. What?!

"Going?"

Gina turns back to her, excitement oozing out of her and Kate's skin crawls. No fucking way is Castle taking his ex-wife-

"To the Hamptons."

Or maybe he is.

Kate risks another glance at Castle and his cheeks are bright red, lips parted, eyebrows raised, clearly trying and failing to say something.

That answers that then. Apparently the invitation isn't still open.

"Ummmm."

His attempt at explaining himself is laughable – if she were in a laughing mood, that is – but instead she's just pissed. Her heart rate increases, the blood rushing through her veins is a rapid waterfall of hurt, but she pushes it all deep within her, forces all expression from her face as she punishes herself further by asking, "For the weekend?"

Gina's voice, light and clear, unknowingly digs the knife in just a little further. "No for the summer actually. So I can stay on top of him while he finishes his book."

She has got to be joking! Seriously? How has this gone from Castle begging her to come to the Hamptons, to now, Gina proudly _on top_ in just a few days? How is that even possible?

"I'm sorry. I didn't think the two of you got along."

"We didn't but then last night on the phone we started talking and we ended up talking for hours. Just like old times." Gina leans her head against Castle's bicep as she smiles at Kate.

She looks so happy, like someone should look when they're starting something new, even if she's starting something new for a second time, and Kate's stomach rolls. She's heard enough. Time to get out of here.

Castle starts to speak, but she jumps in before he has a chance to completely destroy what little dignity she has left by rejecting her outright.

"Oh, well, have a great time. Good to see you again, Gina." She offers a quick wave as she speaks, forcing herself to look into his eyes before she turns away. "Goodbye, Castle."

* * *

"Beckett, wait."

He seems to have finally found his voice, not that it helps; it's too late and she's already heading back to her desk. Paperwork needs to be done for Faraday's case and she's suddenly in the market for some good, mind-numbing distractions.

"Kate, please."

No. No, she can't stop, won't stop. Her heels clack against the floor, the sound refreshing, and she holds her head high. Angry tears threaten to fall, but she won't allow it, won't give him the satisfaction.

"Kate, come on. Wait just a second."

His hand wraps around her arm, presumably to get her to stop, and hell no is he dictating anything that she does in _her_ precinct. Spinning around, she finds herself eye to eye with him thanks to the heels on her shoes, and he startles at the movement. "What for? It's pretty clear that you have your summer laid out already."

"Just let me explain."

He's still holding onto her, but the fierce heat from his grip is too much. She rips her skin away from his, rubbing the area to alleviate the phantom feel of his touch. "Castle, go back to your summer plans, your ex-wife." Disgust drips from her words like venom from a snake's fangs, and he recoils in response. "I've got work to do."

Turning away from him again, she continues on the path to her desk.

"Kate. Just stop."

She seethes, because of course he can't just let it go, and then, swinging back to him, she lowers her voice, the anger that's simmering inside spills out.

"Why? So you can ridicule me some more in front of everyone I work with? No thanks. God, I knew it was a mistake to let myself feel anything for you. To say anything at all."

She shakes her head, eyes closing as she inhales deeply. "I thought you were different from that guy on page six but you're not. So forget about it. Have a great summer, Castle. I hope you and Gina are very happy together this time around."

And with that, she sits in her chair, grabbing the closest file and a pen, completely ignoring him as he stands there, lips turned down in a frown.

Angling her head toward the desk, her hair falls, a curtain that hides her face, and she controls her breaths to keep from losing it. His gaze burns the back of her head as he looms over her, and a shiver races down her spine.

He stands quietly just for a moment before his hands land on her desk, his face hovering too close, staring her down, daring her to fight him. "What the hell did you expect me to do, Kate? You're dating another guy. You explicitly told me you had better things to do."

Locking her glare with his, she can't help but rise to the bait. "So, what? You go pick up the next shiny bimbette that walks by? Real mature, Castle."

"Would you rather I just sit here pining while you run around with Demming? Continue to chase after you like a lost puppy? Make a complete fool of myself? Sorry, but I'm not _that_ pathetic and I sure as hell know how to take a hint."

He stands, straightens to his full height and she can't help but look up at him. His eyes are blazing, lips a narrow slit as he spits his next words in her face. "It's been a pleasure being thoroughly emasculated by you, _Detective_, but, if you don't mind, I'll see you in the fall." With that he turns on his heel, striding away as her heart shatters.

"Don't bother!" She hollers the words at his back, causing his steps to falter, before he rights himself and continues moving. Reaching Gina, he tangles his fingers with hers before heading straight for the elevator.

* * *

It's not until a few minutes after the doors close that she realizes just about everyone is alternating between staring at her and staring at where Castle disappeared. Looking around the room, sending a glare to anyone brave enough to catch her eye, she finally notices Lanie's quiet presence in Castle's – no, it's not Castle's chair anymore – in_ the_ chair beside her desk.

"You wanna tell me what just happened?"

Kate drops her head into her hands, rubbing circles on to her temple in an effort to stave off the pounding headache that has begun to settle in. "Nothing happened. I'm fine."

Lanie rolls her eyes, doesn't appear to buy a word of it. Not that Kate ever expected her to.

"Alright, fine. Keep holding it in. You know where to find me when you need to talk."

Still massaging her temples, Kate watches as Lanie crosses the room, back to the boys.

She is _fine_.

They've each made their choice, said what they needed to say, and it didn't work out. And it's fine.

Totally fine.

* * *

_Thank you to Kylie and Jo for the flails, betas, and smiles. xo_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Sunlight streams through the open blinds, dust particles dancing in the rays as they drift across the clear floor, before slicing a path across her bed. Rolling over, she winces at the bright light, snapping her eyes shut before they're even more than half open, burying her face back into her pillow.

Her head is pounding. She definitely shouldn't have finished off that bottle of wine last night, but coffee will fix it. Coffee always fixes it…

And she'll be fine as long as she doesn't think about Castle while she downs the bitter liquid. Coffee doesn't serve that purpose anymore. It isn't enjoyable, isn't sweet, no longer infused with vanilla and his smile.

No.

She drinks it black now, slow enough to keep from burning her tongue but fast enough to get the jolt of caffeine into her bloodstream before any memories of him have a chance to settle in.

He is gone. And so are her feelings for him.

_Gone_.

Yeah, right.

* * *

Stumbling out of the tub after the quickest, hottest shower possible, she grabs a towel, hissing as it grates her reddened skin, her knee slamming into the toilet seat.

"Shit."

Her voice echoes around the empty bathroom, shattering the silence she's been living in for weeks. The lack of street noise was one of her favorite things about this apartment when she'd first moved in but now the stillness is too much, a constant reminder of just how alone she actually is.

How quiet every aspect of her life has been since he walked out, perky blonde ex-wife on his arm.

Rubbing the tender spot on her knee, she hops over to the sink, squeezing the excess water out of her hair while she assesses the bags under her eyes. She pokes at them, growling at her reflection in annoyance, before she begins applying her makeup, dabbing a generous amount of concealer to cover the evidence of her recent string of late nights followed by early mornings.

Drinking and working; a vicious cycle used to fill the hollow left by Castle's absence. It's pathetic really, just how far she's let herself fall over a guy. Just some guy who pushed his way in, turned everything upside down with his theories and his jokes and his dedication, insinuated himself so fully that now she can't get through the day without running across something he's left his mark on.

Before he'd decided she wasn't good enough and walked away without a second thought.

Why is alcohol the legal drug of choice for those trying to escape their problems?

The nothingness is needed, what she desires after a long day of staring at his empty chair, but it's always temporary. The buzz wears off, allowing her pain, anger, and regret to take its place, and dropping from that high is always so much worse, the fall so much further until she passes out in her bed, blissful oblivion carrying her away.

And then she wakes again to repeat the entire process.

She slams her fist against the wall, frustration leaking out at her own inadequacies. No guy determines her worth, her competence. It's time to move on because he obviously has.

Tying her hair back in a messy knot, she lines her eyelids with black, letting the look enhance the sharpness of her cheekbones and darken the color in her eyes. She turns side to side, smoothing her hands over her bare skin as she assesses her body. Fit and strong, pale skin covering lean muscle and soft curves. She's the product of hard work and it's time to reap the benefits.

Getting dressed, she hooks her badge onto her pants and holsters her gun, the heavy weight helping to cement her armor into place. She slips her mother's ring over her neck and her dad's watch onto her left wrist.

She leaves her feelings at her front door on her way out. Work is calling for Detective Beckett, and there's no room for Kate to tag along.

* * *

Pushing open the doors to the autopsy suite, she spots Lanie buried in paperwork at her desk.

"Hey," Kate mumbles, walking over to an empty metal slab. Turning her back on the table, she hops up, settling on the cold surface, her legs swinging freely.

Lanie looks up from her work, her piercing stare making Kate feel exposed and vulnerable. "Girl, you look like shit."

"Jesus, Lanie. Don't sugar coat it or anything." Throwing a glare Lanie's way, Kate shakes her head at the bluntness and truth housed in the straightforward statement.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Seriously, though, what have you been doing? You look exhausted."

"I'm fine. Just haven't been sleeping well." Kate averts her gaze, unwilling to give Lanie the chance to see through her brush off. She's not ready to admit that she's taken up drinking at night to drown out the silence of her apartment and the painfully loud beat of her heart when thoughts about her fight with Castle and what – who – he's doing in the Hamptons invade her mind.

"Mmm. You ready to tell me what happened with Castle?" Lanie's voice is gentle but it rubs at the raw pieces of Kate's heart, bringing the pain and anger that she's been trying to get away from back to the surface. Feeling her eyes burn with unwelcome tears, she takes a deep breath, swallowing them down, determined to get past this.

"What's there to tell? I waited too long and he picked someone else. End of story." She shrugs as she studies the tile floor, unable to look up and see the pity she's sure is on her friend's face.

"Oh, Kate-"

Holding her hand up in front of her face, she cuts Lanie off. "Don't. I'm not here for that."

"Then why are you here?"

Kate finally looks up and meets her gaze. "Wanna go out with me tonight? I need to pick up a guy."

"Kate-"

"Don't, Lanie. He chose Gina and I won't waste my time waiting for that to blow up in his face. Again. Please, just let it go. You want to come out with me or not?"

Lanie sighs, rubbing her hands on her slacks as she takes a moment to answer. "Alright. Count me in."

"Good. I'll pick you up at nine." Hopping off the autopsy table before Lanie can say anything else, she waves over her shoulder, heading back into the hall.

Tonight. She needs it, deserves a fun night out. She pushes aside the guilt whispering in her ears and the unending heartache coursing through her veins. She's made no promises to him, doesn't owe him anything, so there's no reason to feel bad about wanting to be close to someone else.

Right?

* * *

The low beat of dance music echoes the beat of her heart as she swings her hips. Her fingers comb through her hair, eyes closing, and the steady stream of sound and press of sweaty bodies takes over her every sense.

She's been here for two hours already, pounding shots of tequila with Lanie between tumblers of whiskey. The alcohol she's consumed tangles within, a strong buzz swirling dangerously, while her loss of inhibitions leeches from her skin. And it's working. A guy at the bar has been eyeing her for the last twenty minutes, his stare trailing up and down her body, and with any luck, the open dance floor will draw him away from his friends.

Interrupting her thoughts, a pair of warm palms land on her hips, searing her skin through the thin silk of her dress and she smiles, leaning back against the wall of his chest and fitting her hips with his. This will do just as well.

"May I have this dance?" His voice rumbles in her ear, the sound vibrating down her spine, and she ignores the niggling whisper that his voice isn't right, isn't deep enough.

Spinning in his arms, she looks up to meet his gaze. He's taller than she expected, with warm, chocolate brown eyes and sandy blonde hair. He's sexy in a completely non-Castle way.

She trails her hands up his chest, ducking under the lapels of his blazer, until they drape around his nape. He's warm, burning her fingertips as she scratches her nails against his skin, but it's perfect, just what she needs to quiet the steady chant of _Castle, Castle, Castle_ running round in her head.

"I'm Kate."

Pressing her body closer to his, she whispers in his ear, and his hold on her tightens, his fingers digging into the muscles of her lower back. The feeling of him so close, his grip so strong, is exactly what she's been looking for all night - for weeks, since the day Castle walked out, if she's been honest with herself – and, rolling her hips against his, she sways with him.

"James."

His breath washes over her ear and neck, rustling through her hair, and the buzz of alcohol is nothing compared to the buzz of lust suddenly coursing through her veins. He's leaning down, body bent and curved against hers, his scent swallowing her up until there's nothing left. Just him and her and the beat of the music.

"What do you do, Kate?"

Stiffening in his embrace, she hesitates, the level of anonymity she wants to keep still uncertain. But there are thousands of cops in New York City so she forges ahead, willing to give him just a little piece of herself, if only for tonight.

"I'm a cop."

He pulls back to meet her eyes, excitement, wonder, and admiration appearing in his expression, followed by a healthy dose of arousal as his pupils dilate. "Really?"

She nods as he tucks her back against him, his voice low in her ear. "God, that is so sexy."

They dance in silence, communicating with the movement of their bodies, the push and pull of the crowd, until the tempo changes. It's softer, slower, and she decides it's only fair that she know as well. "What about you? What do you do?"

His smile is sweet, teeth straight and white. "I'm a journalist. I write for _The New Yorker._"

She freezes, his words a bucket of ice water over her head, and she has trouble sucking in air. James. A writer. Thinks being a cop is sexy.

Eight million people in this damn city and she has to find a guy who shares a name and profession with Castle's alter ego. What are the odds of that?

Trying to get her bearings back, she looks back up at him to see his face clouding over with worry. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No. I'm sorry." Untangling herself from his grasp, she turns in a circle, desperately searching for Lanie. She twists back, running an agitated hand through her hair as she tries to find the right words, but all she can see is Castle's face. His blue eyes, strong jaw, crooked grin, and everything comes crashing back down. "I can't. I'm sorry. I can't."

Taking off through the crowd, she pushes her way through the overwhelming number of bodies, leaving him alone in the middle of the dance floor. He calls out for her, but she's suffocating under the noise and the heat, can hardly breathe through the sudden onslaught of pain and emotion.

She spots Lanie chatting at the bar with some guy. He's got one hand on her hip, tugging her closer as he whispers something in her ear, and she throws her head back on a laugh. Kate stops, regret filling her from top to bottom as twin tears escape from her eyes. Regret for destroying the best relationship she's ever had – romantic or otherwise – and now, regret for keeping Lanie from the attention she deserves.

But then Lanie's eyes lock with hers, face changing and, without hesitation, she pulls out of the man's grasp, striding with purpose until she can tangle her fingers with Kate's. Dragging her out of the club, away from the situation, Kate sighs in relief, has never been so grateful for her best friend.

The cool breeze of the night air hits her hard when they step out onto the sidewalk, shocking her body with a harsh shiver. The world is spinning around her, colors too bright, flashing lights too blinding, until she feels the violent roll of her stomach and, stumbling, her knees barely catch her before she hits the pavement.

"Shit. Kate, come on. Cab is here."

Lanie's grip on her hand is enough to keep her standing until she can crash into the backseat, but the second she hits the black leather, she leans her head against the window and closes her eyes as tears continue flowing down her cheeks.

* * *

_Thank you for all your follows, favorites, and especially the reviews. I love hearing your thoughts. _

_Kylie and Jo, you are both wonderful._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The sun rises over East Hampton, spilling rays of color across the sandy beaches and large, sprawling mansions. The ocean water sparkles as the glowing star breaks the surface of the horizon, greeting the world with the promise of warmth and light for the day ahead.

Castle sits in the rolling chair behind his mahogany desk in the office of his Hamptons home watching the sky burn from black to red to pink and finally settle on a brilliant blue. He's caught the sunrise every morning since he and Gina arrived two weeks ago, although he couldn't exactly say why he chooses to watch from here instead of staying in the comfort of his bed, curled around her naked body.

It couldn't possibly be that every time he rolls over he's hit with the startling realization that the woman lying next to him is not the woman he's been dreaming about, or that every time he looks in her eyes, his first thought is that they should be more green than brown. It couldn't be that his brain is telling him one thing while his heart is stuck on something – someone – else.

No.

Definitely not all that.

He just can't sleep later because he's used to being up early, used to waking with the sun so he can grab Kate's favorite coffee on the way to a crime scene or the precinct, used to being pulled from the blissful oblivion of sleep by the ringing of his cell phone and her quiet voice on the other end.

So, of course, here he sits, waking with the sun once more, except these days he's trying to forget her. Forget the woman who turned him down profusely for a year, even started dating another guy right in front of him, and then surprised him with a complete change of heart out of nowhere. Kate Beckett is nothing if not a walking body of contradictions, completely unpredictable and mystifying.

He used to admire those traits, loved the challenge she presented with her reinforced walls made of gallows humor and professionalism. "Extraordinary," he'd called her once, except now he can't quite get past the things she'd said to him, the depths she'd sunk just to hide her own vulnerability. Maybe he's been wrong about her all this time. Wrong to think she was something special instead of just another wounded woman more interested in her own feelings than his.

The frustration that he's been trying to get away from for weeks begins to leak out the longer he sits here wallowing, and he throws his pen across the room, growling as he reaches for his idling laptop. The rest of _Naked Heat_ needs his attention, and despite his lack of muse, Gina will expect to see progress soon.

* * *

When he emerges from his writing binge three hours later, it's to the sound of jazz music from downstairs. Stretching his arms above his head, he wiggles, forcing the blood flow back into his ass, and, standing, he heads to the French doors and the balcony beyond. His stomach grumbles as he leans against the railing, reminding him that he hasn't eaten anything since dinner last night.

"Rick?"

He startles at the sound of Gina's voice, turning to see her framed by the open door, sunlight reflecting off her blonde hair. Her face, pinched tight, lips turned down, alludes to her displeasure, and he sighs, not wholly interested in hearing what he's done wrong now.

The idea of bringing her out here had been a good one he'd thought. Their conversation that night on the phone had been fun; they hadn't laughed together like that since very early in their marriage and he couldn't seem to remember what had gone wrong with them in the first place.

But then they'd arrived and it had started going downhill fast. Sure, they've been having some fun – the sex is better now than it's ever been – but she's ruthless during daylight hours. Always questioning why he isn't writing, when she'll get the next chapter, when the book will be finished. Publisher first, girlfriend second, as always.

"Hey, Gina. What's up?" He reaches a hand out to her, hoping she is here for his company rather than his next chapter.

She comes to him of course, tucking into his side as they lean against the balcony rail, watching the waves crash along the shore, a steady ebb and flow letting him know that the world is so much bigger than this place and this time.

"I haven't seen you all morning so I wanted to check on you. See if you were hungry."

On cue, his stomach rumbles again and she laughs, a gentle quiet thing that he feels more than hears. "I'll take that as a yes," she says, looking up at him, her brown eyes sparkling, cheeks pink in the warmth of the sun. "Come on. Let's get some lunch."

She tangles her fingers with his, tugging him back into the house without saying a single word about his writing and maybe he's been too hard on her, is expecting too much from her. She isn't Kate – no question about that – but she's sweet when she's not acting as his publisher and she's always had his best interests at heart.

Despite their differences, her tendency to be a workaholic and his tendency to avoid work at all costs, she's never jerked him around. With Gina, you get what's on the surface, and he can be happy with that.

He can settle for ordinary.

He can.

* * *

Following her into the kitchen he tries to ignore the niggling voice in his head that says he wants more than what's on the surface, that he wants extraordinary, an onion that he can keep peeling year after year as she reveals precious pieces of herself one at a time.

That he wants a woman he can write books about, enough to fill an entire library, and still not be able to fully describe her.

But he can't want that because he can't want Kate. He can write about her, sure. That's his job after all, at least for now, but it can't run deeper than that. Not anymore.

He pulls cheese and lunchmeat out of the fridge, setting to work on some sandwiches, while Gina washes the grapes and pulls out bottles of water. She passes by him on the way to the breakfast bar and he gets a whiff of her sunscreen. "Are you going outside this afternoon?"

"Yeah, I thought I'd lay out while you keep writing."

Setting the cheese aside, he lays both hands flat on the counter, dropping his head and closing his eyes. Here it comes. "Oh. Well, I was thinking about being done for the day. Or at least taking a break for a while. I'll come out with you."

Her sigh is palpable, the sound of it adding to the tension between his shoulders, and he shakes his head. Of course a break is too much to ask for.

"Rick, I asked for five chapters by the end of this week. It's already Thursday and you've only written one of them."

Spinning around to face her, he sees her leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, closing herself off to him.

Publisher first, girlfriend second.

"But we just got here. Give me a chance to enjoy my vacation before you put me to work." The fact that he's begging her for permission when he's a grown man who can make his own choices isn't lost on him. This is why people don't date people they work with.

"I'm serious, Rick! You're already two months late on these chapters because you refused to put your career above playing detective with _her_. When you catch up we can take a couple of days to relax, but not before then."

Looking away from her, he pinches the bridge of his nose as the sense of déjà vu settles on his shoulders. They've had this fight before, had this exact conversation, and it's too much for him to do it again.

"Fine. I've suddenly lost my appetite so I'll just see you later."

Turning to leave the kitchen and go back upstairs, she stops him with a hand on his arm, her fingers digging into his skin in a vice grip. "Rick, please don't be like this. I'm just trying to do my job."

"Your job?! Is that really all you're here for?" Anger washes over him, frustration with Gina, with himself, and with Kate because if she'd just _said_ something he wouldn't even be in this mess in the first place.

"What? No. Of course not. But I need those chapters, Rick. This is what we do and Black Pawn has expectations. You know that."

"That's not the point, Gina. You'll get the chapters - _you_ should know_ that_ - but I didn't bring you out here so you could look over my shoulder the whole time. I don't work like that. I never have."

He slides away from her, tugging his arm from her grasp, and runs his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. "Look. Maybe. Maybe this was a bad idea."

"What? What was a bad idea?"

He gestures back and forth, indicating them both. "This. Us. Trying this again. Barely two weeks and we're already having the same fights that destroyed our marriage. That's not what I want out of our relationship." He shrugs, watching as her face falls before it hardens into a mask of anger.

"This isn't about us." Eyes blazing, she advances on him, forcing him backward until he bumps into the wall. "It's about her. Isn't it?"

"Gina-"

"No, don't even answer that because it's written all over your face. Has been since I picked you up that day. You're never really here with me. Too busy daydreaming about your detective, sitting in your office, staring off into space instead of writing."

"Come on. This has nothing to do with Kate."

Gina's laugh is harsh, acid dripping from her words as she steps back. "It's been about Kate since the day you met her. I never even had a chance with you this time. No one can compete with the pedestal you've put her on." Walking away, she hesitates in the kitchen doorway, placing both palms against the trim as if she needs the support. "I'll pack my things and leave tonight. And I expect to see those chapters before Monday morning."

He watches her as she heads up the stairs, a hand rubbing over his forehead, his fingers threading through his already disheveled hair. That didn't go well at all.

But maybe she's right. Maybe it is about Kate just as much as it's about Gina.

Whether he wants it to be or not.

* * *

He finishes the chapters Sunday night at half past eight after binge writing all weekend, something about the empty house and the sounds of the ocean giving him the burst of energy and concentration he needed to get it done. But now it's nine, his glass of scotch is empty, and the house is deathly silent, allowing thoughts he doesn't want to have to float uninhibited into his consciousness.

He misses her. And the _her_ he's referring to isn't the her it should be, considering he just broke up with his publisher turned wife turned ex-wife turned girlfriend. How in the world did trying _that_ again seem like a good idea? No more.

Shaking his head, he sets his empty glass on the coffee table and heads out to the patio for some fresh air. The breeze is cool as it coasts in from the ocean, breaking through the sweltering heat that's been baking New York since summer finally set in. He leans against the railing, watching the moon's reflection dance in the water's motion.

He wants to call Kate, see if she's looking up at the moon tonight, too. If she's sitting outside, enjoying her summer, searching through the city's bright lights to find the stars beyond while the cool night air raises goose bumps on her arms. Would she be wrapped in a blanket or too stubborn to give into the comfort of another layer?

Or maybe she's not even at home. Maybe she's at work buried under a mountain of paperwork or staring at the murder board, willing it to show her the connection she needs to solve the case. Would she be thinking about him? Wanting to trade theory and bounce around ideas?

He bangs his fist against the wood he's been leaning on. "Of course not."

No. Kate wouldn't want him, doesn't want him. She has Demming for theory building these days so she doesn't need her annoying shadow anymore. Demming can bring her coffee, and food when she's burning the midnight oil, or force her to go home with him when she's been stuck on the same piece of evidence for hours.

God knows Castle was never able to get that close. Obviously never able to make her see there was more to him than that guy in the newspapers, the playboy author living life on the surface because nothing exists underneath, picking up and dropping women whenever the mood strikes him just because he can.

She never wanted to see past that façade, the role he is forced to play to sell his books, and that's fine. He doesn't need her either. He was happy without her for a long time and he'll be happy without her again.

He will.

* * *

_Thank you for all of the kind reviews, follows, and favorites. _

_And to Kylie and Jo, thank you for all the angsty sob fest we've buried ourselves in. I wouldn't want to share my sad feels with anyone but you._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Pulling up next to Ryan and Espo's unit, Kate turns the key, killing the engine. Her eyes linger on the washed out sign above the door, _The Thirsty Camel_, before dropping to the door itself, taking in the chipping paint and rusty handle. She wrinkles her nose, her forehead pulling tight with curiosity. What type of people would frequent a bar like this?

Getting out of the car, she squints in the early morning sunlight, the rays harsh and relentless, exacerbating her already pounding headache, until she steps into the shade of the alleyway. Leaning back against the wall, she pauses for a moment, watching Lanie kneel next to the body as she adds a note to her clipboard. The boys are to her right, huddled with a couple of officers, hopefully getting the canvas started.

The normalcy of the scene settles something inside of her, a sense of unease that had crept along her skin this morning, her regular start shrouded by an unknown cloud of worry.

"Morning, Lanie," she murmurs as she walks up to the body, freezing when a halo of red hair, fanned out over the asphalt, catches her eye. It's just another drop in a sea of memories that won't seem to let her go.

"Hey, sweetie," Lanie says without looking up. "Got a young female, approximately thirty years old, red hair, blue eyes. About five-six and a hundred and twenty pounds."

It's obviously not Alexis, but the similarities are there, scraping at her, reminding her of the piece that's missing. He should be here, coffee in hand, talking incessantly just because he knows it bugs her this early in the morning. It's been weeks since he left but missing him doesn't ever stop, doesn't ever lift from her shoulders.

She touches the phone in her pocket. Maybe she should call him. Maybe hearing his voice, hearing that he's happy with Gina will be the push she needs to say goodbye. Shaking her head and letting the cell go, she suppresses the urge. Someone is dead and a killer is on the loose. There is work to be done.

"COD?"

"Looks like a single shot to the heart and there's a muzzle burn on her skin." Lanie finally looks up from her examination, a soft smile on her face as her gaze settles on Kate. "My best guess is a thirty eight special, but I'll know more when I get her back to the lab."

"Any defensive wounds?"

"Not really. There's some skin under her fingernails but nothing to indicate she really put up a fight. Could just be that she gripped him when she realized what was about to happen. I'll test it for DNA and let you know. Maybe we'll get lucky."

Rubbing her chin in thought, Kate looks around the alley, taking note of the bar's back door and the body's placement behind the closest dumpster. "She must have known him if he was able to get so up close and personal. Able to look right in her eyes as he pulled the trigger."

"Hey, don't ask me for theories. That's your job."

Lanie's statement is too much and Kate's heart squeezes painfully. Trading theories was his thing - their thing - and now she's going it alone, without her partner, without her friend. "Yeah. Thanks, Lanie."

"Mmmhmm."

She walks the scene, slowly making her way to the boys; attempts to clear the melancholy that's already seeped in.

"Morning, Beckett." Ryan's voice slices through the cloud following her around, forcing her out of her head and into the game.

"Hey, guys. What have you got?"

Ryan begins, quickly recounting what they've been doing since they arrived, but it's Esposito's serious expression, his quietly assessing stare, that holds her attention. She furrows her brow, trying to get a read on him, but his face is a mask, his thoughts hidden from her.

"Officers found her wallet in a dumpster two blocks east of here. Name's Meryl DeGraw, thirty-two, lives in Tribeca."

"Okay, finish the canvas. I'll head back to the precinct to locate next of kin."

"Sounds good."

Turning away, Ryan leaves, having the good sense to follow her instructions, but Esposito stays put, still watching her, studying her, and the hair on the back of her neck stands on end.

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

Her eyes roll as she huffs at him. "Espo, I'm fine. What's wrong with you?"

Her attitude doesn't seem to affect him though because he continues his stare, never breaking eye contact with her.

"You look pale."

"I'm fine." There's no waver or hesitation in her voice - she mastered the art of compartmentalizing and hiding long ago and has no intention of quitting that now. "Get back to work."

But before she can turn away from him completely, his quiet, knowing voice cuts through her carefully built mask.

"You heard from Castle?"

Shit. The sound of his name is like a punch to her stomach, and her mouth goes dry, all the air rushing out of her lungs. Her chest heaves. Her heart races.

"Espo. Leave it alone."

The low growl that rumbles through her chest is a warning that she desperately hopes he heeds. It's the only way she'll get through the rest of the day in one piece.

Her nerves are scraped raw, the desire to call Castle burning her fingertips, and she can't handle Espo choosing today to push for the truth on top of everything else.

Spinning, she walks away as he answers, his soft acquiescence floating to her ear on the breeze, and she can picture his face, the shake of his head because he knows how stubborn she can be, has worked with her long enough to understand that sometimes she needs to be poked and prodded.

But this is not one of those times and this is definitely not one of those subjects that she's willing to open up about.

She just can't.

* * *

Crashing into her apartment later that night, she slams the door shut, turning the three deadbolts and latching the chain with more force than is strictly necessary. Leaning back against the wall she drops her bag and keys at her feet, kicking her shoes off to the side. She needs wine, a lot of wine. And maybe a book and the searing heat of a bath to clear this day, this case, from her mind and body.

Moving toward the bathroom, she begins shedding her clothes. dropping them piece by piece in a trail that leads down the hallway. She flips the hot water tap, plugging the drain, and, pouring a generous amount of lavender bath salts under the thundering flow of water, she takes a deep breath as the frangrance invades her senses.

Her eyes open, her gaze catching on the stack of his books sitting on the shelf near the tub. The edges are worn with use, and she falters when the bold colors of his name printed on the bindings demand her attention. Will she ever escape him?

He's everywhere even when he's not actually _here_. He's on everything. Every second of every day he's clawing at her, digging his way under her skin until she can't breathe, can hardly move under the crushing weight of his absence.

Grabbing the stack of books, she stomps back out to the living room, dumping them in the garbage can. They slam into a pile of empty wine bottles, the loud clink of glass against glass echoing around her sparsely filled studio apartment. She searches the kitchen for a new bottle, the burn of alcohol and the oblivion that follows, calling to her.

Her agitation grows, obscenities falling from her lips, as cabinet after cabinet proves empty. Slamming the last cupboard door closed, she spins in circles trying to decide what to do. She's naked, bathtub filling in the other room, but she wants to forget, at least for a little while.

Running her fingers through her hair, she makes a decision. She needs it, needs the freedom that will come with the bottle, and, throwing on some clothes, she drains the tub, running out the door as fast as possible.

* * *

"And…send! Booyah!"

Rick smacks the mouse button, sending his latest chapters off to Gina, happy with the burst of inspiration that struck him after she'd left. Day after day he's been glued to his computer, the words flowing from his fingers as the freedom of being out here alone worked the kinks loose.

He stands from his desk chair - where he's been perched for the last several hours - stretching his arms above his head, he cringes when his back pops. Moving toward the open balcony doors, he leans against the doorframe, listening to the waves breaking along the beach, and, taking a deep breath of the salty air, his stomach grumbles.

The sun has long since set, a full moon hanging in its place, setting an ethereal glow on the property surrounding his home, and it seems he's been so wrapped up in Nikki and Rook that he's forgotten dinner.

Stepping into the hall, he catches the time on the grandfather clock sitting against the north wall of the office. Nine-thirty pm. Definitely not too late to call and check in on his favorite red head, and a huge grin forms at the thought of his baby girl.

Racing down the stairs, he listens to the phone ringing in his ear. Once, twice, three times. She finally answers on the fifth ring, sounding breathless.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hello, Daughter! How's my favorite Princetonian? Princetonite? Prince-"

"I'm good, Dad. What's up?" she interrupts as he leans against the kitchen counter.

He opens his mouth to reply when someone - worse, _a boy_ - yells her name in the background.

"Hang on, Dad." The sound of static echoes in his ear, her voice muffled and distorted as she speaks to _him_, clearly covering the microphone with her hand for a moment. "Sorry. We're about to head out. What did you say you wanted?"

"Out? On a school night?"

"Yeah." He can almost see the eye roll, despite the distance. "There's a poetry slam at a coffee shop on campus and I'm going with some people from my floor. But we're leaving so…" She trails off, sounding rushed and maybe a little flustered.

"Huh. Well, I won't keep you then. Just wanted to check in and see if you were still coming out this weekend."

He can hardly keep the excitement out of his voice. Almost six weeks out here all alone, doing nothing but writing, and now he's finally getting a break to hang with her for a make-up Memorial Day Weekend of sorts. Laser tag, sandcastles on the beach, and movie nights complete with the largest ice cream Sundays known to man. It doesn't get any better than that.

"Oh, actually, I can't this weekend."

And, instantly, his entire body deflates. Collapsing into the nearest barstool, he closes his eyes and drops his head into his free hand, disappointment snaking through his veins before he can stop it.

"Alexis. Why not?" If it were anyone else he'd be embarrassed by the whine in his voice, but this is his daughter, the one person that knows how lonely he's been and how excited he was about this weekend.

"Daddy, I can't just drop everything to come entertain you when you're bored. I have my own stuff to do."

His eyes shoot back open at her outburst. He can't recall ever having heard such harsh words from her before. "Alexis-"

"Look, I'm sorry. I know you were looking forward to it but I have a lot of school work and I was invited to a party on Saturday night. We'll do it another weekend, okay? Don't worry, you won't be up there alone forever."

Her voice is softer this time, and his reprimand dies on his tongue. Maybe she's just stressed; this program was meant to be a significant challenge to prepare for college, and Alexis is nothing if not dedicated to her education.

"Alright. Let me know when you get a break and we'll plan it."

"Sounds good. I'll look at my schedule tomorrow. I really have to go though or they're going to leave without me. I love you, Daddy."

"Love you, too, Pump-" The dial tone sounds. "-kin. Have fun..." His goodbye trails off, now that he's alone in the conversation.

Folding his arms on the bar counter, he drops his head onto the knot, sighing and giving himself a moment to wallow in his disappointment. What is he supposed to do now? He's finally caught up on the book, written enough to get Gina to back off so that he could have this weekend free to enjoy his summer vacation, and now his plans are ruined.

Toying with the phone, an image of Kate floats to the forefront of his mind. He could call her, apologize for everything that was said and for the way they left things, see how her summer's been. Maybe she'll want to come out for the weekend. They can start over with a clean slate, just two friends enjoying some time away from the city and their everyday lives. See where it takes them.

But then, what about Demming? They must have broken up because she would have never agreed to come out here if they hadn't. So maybe…

Unlocking the device, his thumb hovers over her name, but he can't do it. He hasn't heard a word from her, from any of them actually, so he's obviously not needed or wanted. No reason to force his way back in somewhere he isn't welcome.

He drops the phone onto the counter, growling into the silence of the room. Nope. If she wants to talk to him, she'll call. He'll just have to entertain himself until that happens.

If it happens.

And if it doesn't happen then he'll be fine. He doesn't need her anyway.

* * *

_Kylie and Jo, thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything. xo_


	5. Chapter 5

_Just a quick note that, while not ideal, Kate choosing alcohol as a way to deal with overwhelming emotion is something we've seen in canon, specifically in the season four episode, "Kill Shot."_

* * *

Chapter Five

She slams the empty shot glass upside down onto the bar top, sliding it into place at the end of the line as the burn of salt, tequila, and lime travels down her throat, sending sparks of electricity across her skin.

"One more, Josh."

Sitting on the stool next to her, he looks over, dark eyes widening with surprise, and she shrugs, smiling at him in encouragement, knocking her knee against his.

"Okay, okay. One more." He laughs and shakes his head, handing her the salt as she licks the webbing between her thumb and index finger.

Holding his gaze, she shakes the salt, a trail of white crystals landing on her skin, but before she can lick it again, he grabs her hand, running his own tongue over the spot. She shivers at the heat in his grip, the rough edge to his touch, and he tosses a fresh shot back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

Thoroughly distracted by the movement of his throat, the way his skin stretches over the tendons, the five o'clock shadow appearing along his jaw, she drops the saltshaker to the counter, and, picking up a lime wedge, she holds it out to him as he sets the glass down.

But he doesn't take it from her.

Her mouth drops open when he leans forward, wrapping his lips around the rind to suck the juice free, and while he keeps ahold of her hand, he reaches for the saltshaker again, dusting the granules on the same spot.

"Your turn, Kate."

The deep rumble of his voice knocks her into action, and she leans forward, closing her eyes as she tastes that same stretch of skin, smiling when she hears his sharp intake of breath.

Picking up the glass, she knocks it back, the alcohol buzzing through her veins, warming her from the inside out. His hand settles on her thigh when he hands over the lime, and the weight of him pressing down anchors her to her seat.

This is good. It feels good to be out, to be sitting with someone who so clearly wants her, who she feels like she could want too. He's tall, with dark, wavy hair that she's tempted to run her fingers through, just long enough to brush the collar of his leather jacket. His jeans fit him perfectly, tight over his thighs and ass, and the thin, black t-shirt he's wearing hints at a well defined torso.

The perfect distraction.

He's exactly what she's been looking for to drown out the phantom sound of Castle's voice. The whisper she hears as she stands in front of her murder board, the disappointment she feels every time she walks into the precinct and he's not there.

Every time she doesn't find a perfect cup of coffee, made especially for her, waiting on her desk.

She shakes her head, wiping away the thoughts of what she doesn't have to focus on the man in front of her. "Wanna dance?"

Not waiting for an answer, she grabs ahold of his hand, tugging him off his stool and onto the dance floor. She raises both of her arms above her head, keeping her grip on his hand strong so he has no choice but to follow; her hips swinging from side to side, as she matches the beat of the music. His free hand lands on her shoulder, squeezing gently, before it trails its way down her back and around to her hip, fingertips dipping just below the line of decent.

She hums at his touch, spinning to face him, when a flash of red hair catches her eye, acting as a bucket of ice water over her head.

"Alexis?"

Freezing, Alexis looks around, her glassy blue eyes landing on Kate, and recognition appears to hit her hard, her mouth dropping open.

"Alexis, what the hell are you doing here?" Kate asks as she pushes away from Josh, moving closer to the younger girl who should definitely not be standing in the middle of a bar right now.

"Come on, Alexis."

A boy who doesn't seem to be much older tugs on their linked hands, attempts to get them moving again, but Alexis shakes him off, her gaze never leaving Kate's.

"Go on. I'll meet you in a minute."

"Whatever," he says as he rolls his eyes, running off as the crowd swallows him.

Kate's stare returns to Alexis, the two of them standing at an impasse when Josh's hand lands back on her hip, and he leans down to whisper in her ear. "What's going on?"

The combination of his scent and the amount of alcohol in her system is too much, and she closes her eyes, shivering as his breath washes over the bare skin of her neck. "Give me a minute."

Opening her eyes again, she looks back at Alexis, surprised at what she sees. The girl's cheeks are pink, but her back is straight in defiance, lips pinched, and fists clenched tight at her sides. Anger burns in her eyes, every ounce of it directed at Kate. And then at Josh.

"Detective Beckett."

Kate steps forward, reaching out to grasp Alexis' arm, but before she gets a grip the girl ducks her shoulder, backing away. "What are you doing in here, Alexis?"

"It's none of your business. Besides, we were just leaving."

Her words are slightly slurred, but her gaze is firm, glare intense, daring Kate to make a scene.

"You're underage," Kate hisses, attempting to reach for her again.

Doubling over with laughter, Alexis holds her hand up, waving it from side to side. "Yeah, right! Because you're such a shining example of the difference age can make. How much have you had to drink tonight, huh?"

"Alexis!"

"Have a good night, Detective. Don't get into too much trouble."

Shock halts her movement, her jaw plummeting over Alexis' behavior. What did she mean by that?

Shaking her head, the surprise loosening, Kate sucks in a deep breath, reaching out and grabbing hold of Alexis, spinning her around.

But Alexis rips her arm away, fury burning in her blue eyes. "Don't touch me."

"Alexis, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"You're not my mother so I don't have to answer to you. Leave me alone."

Before Kate can even begin to think about what to do or say, a body slams into her, knocking her to the side, and it pulls her attention away. She takes a step back as another man comes toward her, his fist raised and she has to duck to avoid him, getting out of the way as the two raging parties collide, falling to the floor, throwing punches.

Looking away from the idiots before her, Kate takes a steady breath only to realize Alexis has disappeared.

"Shit."

She turns her head from side to side, rising onto her toes to look over the crowd surrounding the fighting men, but the room is too dark, the sea of people too dense for her to see more than a few feet away.

Two of the club's bouncers arrive, breaking through the mass of patrons to pull the men apart and Kate uses the interruption to slip away, leaving them to do their job as her focus returns to Alexis. She runs out the front door, turning in circles on the sidewalk, desperate for a glimpse of the red head, but there's no sign of her anywhere.

Kate stops, her shoulders slumping in defeat and absolute confusion. What the hell just happened?

* * *

After trying to call Alexis twice, only to be met with the girl's voicemail both times, Kate paces back and forth, debating what to do. She has to call him, has to make sure he knows. Despite everything that's happened, she has a duty to him for this, if nothing else.

Unlocking her phone, she hesitates before finally pressing down to select Castle's name from her contacts. Her heart rate jumps as the call connects and she brings the cell to her ear.

Knots form in her stomach with each ring, her hands shaking so hard she almost drops the device before she has a good grip on it. She's pacing still, waiting for him to answer, stumbling over her feet as she spins too fast.

And then it happens.

He's there, teasing, laughing. Hearing him is like a balm to her soul, the sound of his voice so perfect, instantly soothing, and she releases the breath she'd been holding.

"Hey, you've reached Richard Castle! Lucky you."

The beep sounds and her heart drops straight to the floor, shattered into pieces because it's not really him. He didn't answer.

Either he couldn't - and that presents several possibilities that make her skin crawl - or he chose not too.

She's not sure which option is worse.

"Hey, Castle. It's me…uhh, Beckett. Listen-"

"Kate! Hey, what happened to you?" Josh interrupts and she startles as his hands land on her.

Pushing him away, she continues her message. "Listen, Castle. I need you to call me, okay? I need to talk to you about something personal-"

"Kate." Wrapping himself around her from behind, Josh breathes her name against her ear as he tries to get at her, pushing her phone away with his nose. "Come back inside. I thought we were having fun."

He presses himself against her back, his hands tripping along the buttons on her blouse, and she gasps at his touch.

"Josh, hang on a second."

She unravels his arms, pulling out of his embrace so she can concentrate on her message. "Castle, please just call me. It's important."

Ending the call, she tugs a hand through her hair, growling into the darkness of the street. This night is not turning out how she wanted at all, and her skin tingles with the force of Josh's gaze. It's not the right one. He's watching her, waiting on her, but she just can't go back in there with him.

She's tried fooling herself, telling herself the lies she needed to get through each day, but it's not enough anymore. There is nothing like Castle, no one good enough to replace him. No one makes her feel the way that he does, their voices don't calm her racing heart like his, their touch doesn't make her ache with desire like his.

Josh must decide he's done waiting because suddenly his arms are snaking around her waist again, his nose landing behind her ear, lips touching her skin, and it makes her stomach roll. Whirling around, she breaks free of him, feeling a small stab of remorse because she's led him on.

"I'm sorry, Josh. I can't do this." Tucking her hair behind her ears, she looks up at him and shrugs her shoulder, unable to say anything more or explain any better. "Thank you for the drinks. I had a good time, but I have to go home."

His face falls, but he nods, a gentleman, it seems. "Can I have your number? Maybe we can get coffee sometime?"

Smiling, she leans forward, brushing a kiss across his cheek. "I'm sorry."

She turns away from him, beginning her walk home. Josh is sweet and if this were another life, if she were another woman, she would have accepted his offer, would have wanted to spend more time with him.

But she's not that woman.

Her heart belongs to Castle, whether he wants it or not, and she has to deal with that before she can be free for someone else.

* * *

Stretched out across the living room couch with yet another advance copy novel that needs yet another quote for its cover open on his lap, Castle stares at the ceiling, counting the tick tocks coming from the wall clock. He's given up on reading, can't seem to concentrate enough to get past the first few pages, and, instead, he's lying here, waiting.

Although, he's not sure what he's waiting for.

Perhaps for Alexis to run through the door, ready to spend her weekend with him. Or, maybe, for Kate to show up unannounced, ready to fight for what they could have been together.

Whatever it is, the hours have passed with no change. The stillness and silence of the house presses on, life outside passing him by.

He startles when his phone begins to buzz on top of the coffee table, the ringtone echoing around the wide-open space. Reaching for the device, he almost drops it when her picture lights up the screen, her name appearing, and he freezes, unable to decide between _accept _or _decline._

The thought of talking to her makes him break out into a cold sweat, his heart thrashing in his chest, and before he can make a choice, the vibration stops, "one missed call" taking the place of her photo.

The phone buzzes again a minute later, announcing the voicemail she's left, and he can't seem to get his fingers working fast enough, mistyping the unlock code twice before he finally gets it right. He selects the message, taking a deep breath as he brings the speaker to his ear.

And there she is, the tones and inflections in her voice so familiar and soothing, he almost sobs with relief, not even listening to what she's actually saying.

His reverie is shattered, though, when a male voice, one he doesn't recognize, interrupts her.

Of course that's how it's going to go.

Of course she hasn't spent the last few weeks thinking about him, wishing things had gone differently that day.

Of course she hasn't been spending her summer missing him the way he's been missing her.

Anger washes over him, skating along his skin, and he can't listen to the rest of the message. He doesn't care what she wanted, isn't willing to let her dangle her happiness in his face.

Again.

He deletes the message on autopilot, dropping his phone to the couch as he goes in search of some entertainment.

There's an unopened bottle of eighteen year old single malt in his liquor cabinet and ice cream in the freezer, and both call his name. Tonight he will drown his feelings for her, say goodbye one last time.

And tomorrow he'll move on, just as she has.

* * *

_K&J, my beta team, my friends. Filling me with smiles and feels every day of my life._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Pulling into a parking spot outside Reginella's Ristorante, Castle turns the key of his Mercedes, shutting the engine off, and, taking a deep breath, he looks around. There are a few other cars in the lot, enough for a happy hour rush, but not too many for the crowd to be overwhelming, and he peers in his rearview mirror, checking his hair one last time.

It's hot. The sun is shining and the sky is clear. It's a perfect day for a new start.

He can do this.

Stepping out onto the concrete, he adjusts his pants, tugging on his collar, and tucking his rolled-up sleeves around his elbows. He's fidgeting. Nervously fidgeting and he wrings his hands together, rolling his eyes because, really, he has more game than this.

But Kate has ruined him.

No. _No. _

She's not here. This isn't about her.

He's going to get a drink, visit with the owners. Socialize a little because he's been moping at the house for far too long. It's a good plan and he's ready for it.

He is.

* * *

"Ricky!"

He's pushing through the door when Niccolo rams into him, the robust Italian man wrapping him up in a full-bodied hug, slapping his back in greeting.

"Ricky, where've you been and where's the little princess? I haven't seen you two in months."

Laughing, Castle shakes the man's hand, the tension in his shoulders easing as he settles into the familiar atmosphere. Nic's right; it's been way too long since he's stopped in.

"Alexis is at Princeton for the summer," he says, nodding at Nic's awed expression. "And I've been holed up trying to finish my book. Finally decided to surface for some food. What have you got for me? Anything new?"

Nic slaps a hand on Castle's shoulder, tugging him along as they move through the restaurant until they come to a stop at a round table in the corner. It's the one he's been eating at with Alexis since their first summer out here, and the pang of nostalgia for times gone by catches him by surprise.

"I might have something you'll like. Sit here. I'll have Rosa bring you some wine while I make you a plate." The man leans in, cupping his hand over his mouth as he whispers conspiratorially. "But be prepared, because she'll want to know why you're not here with a lady friend."

"I'll be sure to come up with something."

Castle chuckles as his old friend ambles back toward the kitchen, stopping to drop a kiss on his wife's cheek as he goes. Watching them, Castle sees Nic tuck a wild strand of her hair behind her ear, and it causes her to stall her movements, slowing so she can glance up at him.

Rick's heart twists in his chest at the look on her face, the pure, undisguised love she feels for her husband written into the lines around her eyes and the smile lifting her cheeks. It's exactly what he wants, what he thought he could have with Kate, if only they'd been better at timing and communication.

Rosa laughs at something Nic says and then her eyes shift to meet Rick's from across the room, her hand lifting in a gentle wave. She looks pleased to see him and he feels an answering grin stretch across his face as he raises his arm to return her greeting. Gesturing to the bar, she points back to him, letting him know she got the message and he nods in reply.

She turns her attention back to Nic, pushing him away as he leans in for another kiss. But there's no malice in it, no serious reprimand in her actions, and Castle can't help the wave of jealousy that washes over him.

A wife, a partner.

A love that will last a lifetime.

It's the only dream he's ever had that hasn't come to fruition and he's starting to give up on it. Will he ever be lucky enough to find someone who is willing to love him as much as he loves her?

Will he ever meet a woman who chooses to put a life with him - a relationship with him - above the material things she can get from him?

* * *

The appearance of two wine glasses and a movement opposite pulls him out of his thoughts, the lights and sounds of the Italian bistro invading his senses as he comes back to himself. Rosa sits in the chair but doesn't speak, her expression just a little sad, not at all what he expected to see.

Standing, he leans over the table, dropping a kiss on her cheek as she watches him, her eyes too knowing, as though she can see straight into his somber soul.

"Good to see you again, Rosa. How are the kids?"

"They're all doing well." She takes a sip from her glass, setting it back on the table, and, leaning toward him, her eyes narrow. "But I'm not here for small talk, Rick. You wanna tell me why you look so depressed or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?"

Looking down at his clasped hands, he sighs. "I never could hide anything from you." He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it slightly disheveled, before peering back at her.

Her expression has softened, lips turned down in a gentle frown. Reaching forward, she offers her open palm and he grips her hand, squeezing in silent gratitude for the support and love that she always has in spades.

Winking at him, she shrugs her shoulder. "What can I say? It's a gift."

He chuckles, and then sighs again. This was not meant to be a time for discussing his problems, but the idea of sharing his burden with someone who won't judge or tell him he's being ridiculous, someone who has only ever wanted to see him happy, is definitely appealing.

And, taking a steadying breath along with a sip of his wine for encouragement, he begins to tell her about Kate.

* * *

"Oh, Ricky," she sighs.

"Yeah."

"You love her. Why don't you tell her?"

He startles, his gaze cutting across the table, studying her face for any signs of a joke. Is it really that obvious? Can it be that simple?

"Don't look at me like that. It's written all over your face, dripping from every word you've said. I've_ never_ seen that look in your eyes before. This one is real. She's real."

He nods, unable to deny the truth. "She is real. But she's not interested."

"You don't know that."

"I do know that. She's seeing someone. Overheard him on a voicemail she left for me."

"Oh… Well, that does throw a wrench in things."

Shrugging his shoulders, he stays quiet. This is the situation he's found himself in and he's trying to make peace with that.

"Look, I don't pretend to know what's going on in her mind, but I know you and I know love. If she's the right one for you then things will work out. You just have to fight for her."

He shakes his head, Kate's hateful words from that day floating through his mind and the unknown man's voice reminding him that she's moved on.

"I can't, Rosa. All she sees - all she wants to see - is my public image, the jackass, the playboy author."

"Then make her see _you_. Not the rich author, but the man. Make her choose you." She reaches across the table, cupping his cheek. "You're a good man, Rick. You deserve to be happy."

He rests his palm over hers against his cheek, smiling at this sweet woman who's getting so passionate in his defense, and he silently thanks the universe for dropping him and Alexis on their doorstep so many years ago.

"You think she's worth it?"

"The right love is always worth it."

Conviction burns through her words, steel in the set of her jaw, and, nodding, she gently pats his cheek before pulling her hand back.

Taking a sip of her wine, her eyes twinkle with mischief when she speaks again. "So, when are you going to call her?"

"You're not going to let it go, are you?"

"Not if I can help it." She winks.

He runs his fingers through his hair, groaning, because she's right. Despite everything - the anger, the frustration, the miscommunications - he's not ready to give up on Kate, on what they could have together.

"I was thinking about going home soon anyway. I'll go and see her when I get back. How about that?"

A grin forms on her face, and he feels a matching one lift his own lips, a small bead of trepidation mixed with excitement zipping through his veins.

"I look forward to the day you bring her in here to meet me."

* * *

Closing up his bag, he walks around the room one last time, checking under the bed and in the bathroom to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything important. He stops in the office to grab his laptop and the completed manuscript of _Naked Heat_, and then continues down the stairs, shutting off the lights as he goes.

The cleaning service will be here tomorrow to empty the fridge and close up the house until next time, so all that's left to do is pack up the car and head home.

Home.

It's bittersweet. Almost August already and this summer is shaping up to be nothing like he had anticipated. His relationship with Gina crashed and burned - of course, looking back, that should not have been a surprise - and Alexis hasn't made it out here once to visit.

And then there's Kate.

He hasn't called her back yet, but he was being truthful when he told Rosa he'd visit her once he got into the city. The plan is to head home today, settle back into the loft for a couple of days, head down to Princeton to catch up with Alexis, and then he'll call Kate this weekend.

Maybe she'll have a day off and they'll be able to grab a coffee. And talk. If he has any hope of fixing this, fixing them, then the first step is a civilized, adult conversation.

They're at a crossroads, he and Beckett, even if she doesn't know it, and it's time. Time to go home. Time to make a change.

* * *

Traffic on Route 27 is light as he makes his way west through the villages and back toward New York City, and just under two and a half hours later he's pulling into a spot down the block from Remy's to grab a bite before heading home.

The idea of a cheeseburger, greasy fries, and a chocolate milkshake is making his mouth water, and, itching to get in there, he hops out of the car, jogging across the street. Swinging the front door open, he steps inside, his feet faltering when he sees two very familiar faces sitting on stools at the diner's counter.

A small grin blooms on his face, happy with the coincidence of seeing his friends who he's missed more than he realized, and, turning toward them, he walks over. "Hey, guys."

Jumping at the sound of his voice, Esposito and Ryan both look over their shoulders at the interruption, matching expressions of surprise washing over their faces when they see him standing there.

"How's it going?" Castle shuffles from foot to foot, tearing his fingers through his hair under their unwavering gazes, a ripple of apprehension racing down his spine. They don't look happy to see him.

Esposito is the first to speak, his voice steady but cold. "Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. What are you doing here, Castle?"

"Uhh, you mind if I sit?" He gestures toward an adjacent stool, hesitating before taking a small step forward.

Both boys continue to stare, but then Ryan turns his back, patting the leather seat next to him, indicating for Castle to sit down.

"So. How'd you end up in this part of town?" Peeking around Ryan, Epso raises an eyebrow as Castle gets settled.

"Just got hungry. Haven't had a Remy's burger in a while so..." He shrugs. "You guys eat already?"

"No, we're getting take out. Busy day." Espo leans his forearms against the counter, no longer looking at Castle, his body language clearly saying he's done talking.

"Oh. Okay. So… Got a case?"

"Yup." Ryan's gaze is trained on the television in the corner, tuned into a local news station.

Castle watches them both, getting the message that neither actually wants to talk to him. He opens his mouth to speak again, to ask what's bothering them, when a young woman walks up with a large bag filled with take out boxes and a tray with three milkshakes.

"Alright, so that's two bacon cheeseburgers, a veggie burger, three sides of fries, strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate shakes. Need anything else?"

She reads the receipt, listing off each piece of their order as she sets the bag down, and Castle feels a stab of wistfulness and jealousy. The veggie burger and strawberry shake have to be for Beckett, meaning they're going back to see her, and he almost asks if he can come too, the idea of her so close, so tempting.

But he pushes it back. Not yet. The precinct is not the place, and today is not the day to have the conversation they need to have, and, if he sees her, is within twenty feet of her, he won't be able to hold back everything he wants to say.

No.

He'll stick with the plan. This weekend he'll go to her apartment where there's privacy and a lack of interruptions, and they'll hash this out.

Espo hands over some cash to pay the tab, grabbing the tray of shakes, as Ryan stands and gathers up the bag of food.

"Well, we've got to get back. See ya 'round, Castle."

Neither man waits for his response. Instead they stride to the door, side by side, as partners should, before disappearing in the mass of lunchtime foot traffic outside, and Castle is left, dumbfounded and alone at the diner counter. Looks like he has more than one relationship that needs repairing now that he's back in the city, although he's not sure what he's done to set them off.

"Did you want something to eat, Honey?"

The gentle voice breaks him from his staring contest with the glass door, and he turns his back on it, swinging his attention to the waitress, and returning her smile. "Just a cheeseburger and a side of sweet potato fries, please. And a water?"

"Sure thing."

She spins away, and he drops his head in his hands, rubbing circles into his temples.

Welcome home.

* * *

_Kylie and Jo, as always, thank you for the wonderful beta work and all the laughs. xx_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Sitting at her desk, her chin cradled in her palm, Kate hits the home button on her phone, the screen lighting up to show nothing but her background image. No missed calls, no messages.

It's been a week and he hasn't called back.

She growls as the screen goes dark, and, sitting back in her chair, she pushes both palms into her eyes, stars appearing under the pressure. Seven whole days and not a single word from him.

Should she call him again? Maybe he didn't get the message. Maybe he broke his phone before he could listen to it.

Maybe he's just ignoring her. Maybe he's too busy gallivanting around with Gina to worry about what his old partner has to say.

Maybe he heard Josh on the message and he's chosen not to call back. Shaking her head, she dismisses that idea. He's with Gina so why would it matter?

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

She's drowning in possibilities and assumptions and unknowns.

Tearing her fingers through her hair, she eyes the silent phone still sitting on her desk. It's taunting her with its simplicity, daring her to make a move. She should call him again. Despite the awkwardness of breaking into his new life with Gina, she still needs to tell him about what happened with Alexis. That's the priority here.

Not Kate. Alexis.

Reaching for the device, she startles, her hand falling away when it begins to ring. It buzzes against her desk to announce an incoming call, its happy sounding ring tone a stark contrast to her dark mood.

She blows out a ragged breath, rolling her eyes at herself and her rapidly beating heart, when it's Lanie's name, not Castle's, that flashes across the screen.

"Beckett."

"Hey, Girl. Get down here. I've got something on the Robertson case."

"Okay. I'll be there ASAP."

She ends the call, staring at the phone, weighing her options. She could call him now. But, then there's the case. No. She'll do it later when she's not at work. When she can be alone and undisturbed.

It's not because she's scared. Not at all.

She's just busy.

Right.

* * *

"Hey, Lanie."

"Hey, Girl." Lanie stops typing, peeking over the stacks of files and reports littering her desk to offer Beckett a smile. "Just give me a minute to finish this."

"Okay."

Kate wanders the room, poking and prodding at things that her friend has lying about, listening to the rhythmic clicks of the keyboard, until the sound of a desk chair rolling breaks her out of her thoughts.

Spinning around, she catches sight of Lanie digging through one stack of files, finally pulling out a stapled group of papers, and then walking over to the sheet-covered body of their victim.

Lanie hands the file to Kate before pulling the white fabric back as she speaks, twisting the victim's left arm. "So toxicology was clean but I did find some weird marks on her body that I wanted you to see. All along here."

Kate's brow furrows as she studies the series of small burns peppering the inside of the girl's wrist and forearm. "What are they?"

"Cigarette burns. But they're fresh. Occurred perimortem. Maybe some sort of torture technique?"

Beckett hums, studying the grouping and depth of the burns, her mind working to piece it in with the rest of the evidence they've already found.

The sound of her phone ringing breaks her concentration, and she digs it out of her pocket, answering when she sees it's Espo calling.

"Beckett."

"Hey, Beckett. Where you at?"

"I'm in the morgue. Lanie found cigarette burns on the vic's arm."

"Really? Huh. Okay, well we're gonna hit Remy's on the way back. You want something?"

At the mention of Remy's, her stomach grumbles, and she glances at the clock on the wall. Twelve-thirty. It's another meal that she would have unintentionally ignored without their reminder. "Umm, yeah. Just the usual."

"Veggie burger and a strawberry shake?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Espo."

"Sure thing."

The dial tone sounds in her ear when he hangs up, and, dropping her hand, she stares at the darkened screen, lost in her thoughts of lunch and Castle and how he used to be the one who was always reminding her to eat. "_You have to take care of yourself, Beckett. I can't have you wasting away on me._"

But not anymore.

"Earth to Kate."

She jumps at the sound of Lanie's voice, looking up to find her leaning against the bank of morgue drawers, her arms crossed over her chest.

"You okay?" she asks, a quiet note of concern coating her words.

Kate takes a deep breath, pulling herself out from under the sense of defeat and loss that's squeezing her heart, and, forcing her lips into a bright smile, she attempts to telegraph a happiness she doesn't feel. "Yeah. Sorry. Just the boys stopping for lunch. Anyway-" She points to the door, twisting her body toward the morgue's exit.

"Hold it."

Kate stops at that, her eyes closing because there's no way she's going to get out of here without giving Lanie something. Sighing, she turns around and waits.

"What's up with you?"

Kate shakes her head, feigning nonchalance. "Nothing's up with me."

"Kate, how long have we known each other? You can't lie to me."

Rubbing her hand over her forehead, she growls. "Lanie, it's fine. I'm handling it."

"You're not handling it. You're stumbling, Kate. I've been trying to ignore it, thinking you just needed the time to reset after Castle left, but… I can't let you keep going like this. Drinking like you have been."

"Lanie."

"Are you ready to tell me what happened?"

"What's there to tell?" Kate throws her arms up, her voice echoing off the wall tiles as she begins to pace. "I was dating Tom - and that was good - but then Javi said some stuff and I started thinking about it." She stops in her tirade, turning to lock eyes with her friend. "You know me, Lanie. You know how gun shy I can be. But then I started thinking about all the things Castle had done for me over the last year. He's fun. He's opened me up in so many ways. I know I hated him at the beginning, but then he just wormed his way in, past every defense, every wall that I spent twelve years erecting, whether he meant to or not and now he's in my head, under my skin all the time. I can't get rid of him, Lanie. I've tried everything but he's just there."

Taking a deep breath, she looks up at the ceiling, tears of frustration forming in her eyes. "And now I have another problem that I don't know how to deal with."

"What do you mean?"

"Last week, I was at a bar in Midtown, and I ran into Alexis. She was drunk, Lanie. Drunk. Castle's perfect, sweet, never steps out of her self-imposed bubble daughter was drunk and I have no idea what that means or how it even happened in the first place."

"Does he know?"

Kate shrugs, a headache beginning to pound behind her eyes, and she sighs. "I tried calling him but… I didn't want to tell him on a message, you know? Just in case. So I told him to call me. That I had something to tell him. But it's been a week and I haven't heard back from him."

"Why didn't you arrest her?"

"Lanie…"

"I'm serious, Kate. Underage drinking? You put your badge on the line when you didn't bring her in."

Lanie's eyes are dark, her expression severe, and Kate nods. "I… Honestly, I didn't even have a chance to think about it. I was so shocked. Then there was a fight and she disappeared on me during the commotion. But she's a good kid, Lanie. Something is causing her to act like this."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

Throwing her hands out to each side of her body, Kate shakes her head. "I have no idea. Try to talk to him, I guess. Despite our problems, I still need to make sure he knows."

Lanie nods, her lips pursed, and, pushing off the morgue drawers, she comes across the room, wrapping her arms around Kate in a strong hug. "Just call him again. And if he doesn't answer, call him again. He can't ignore you forever."

* * *

Kate leans against her desk, staring at the murder board when the ding of the elevator announces the boys' arrival. Turning, she watches them walk toward her, and her mouth waters, her eyes catching sight of the milkshakes that Espo is carrying and the bag hanging from Ryan's hand.

They are laughing about something, and, as she meets them at Espo's desk, she catches a whiff of the burgers. It's heavenly, and she rips the bag away from Ryan, tearing into it to find her lunch.

"Jeez, Beckett. You're welcome." Ryan's voice holds a note of utter disbelief at her actions, and she looks up at him when she finds the box marked with a black V, shrugging as she offers him a small smile.

"Sorry. And thank you. I'm just really hungry."

"Uh huh." Ryan grabs the other two boxes, handing one to Espo before he slides into his own desk chair.

Folding the lid of the box back, she sighs happily in anticipation of the flavors about to assault her taste buds. The veggie patty is still hot, piled high with a mountain of tomato, onion, avocado, and lettuce, sandwiched between two halves of a toasted Kaiser roll, and she drops into the nearest chair, bringing the delicious mess of perfection to her mouth, closing her eyes when she takes the first bite.

The trio sits in silence for several minutes, each devouring their lunch, until Espo speaks up.

"So, guess who we ran into at Remy's."

"Dude! Really?" Ryan reaches over and smacks Espo on the back of the head, startling Beckett out of her food coma.

"Ow." Rubbing the sore spot, Esposito growls at his partner, his eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. "What? It's not like she's not gonna find out."

"Uhhh. Hello? You know I can hear you, right? What are you talking about?"

She rolls her eyes at their antics, relaxed and happy to be in the presence of these two, these men that keep her smiling, push her out from under her dark cloud when she can't do it alone. Her brothers-

"Castle."

Her heart stops.

"What?"

"Nice, Dude. Just ease her right into it."

Ryan shakes his head before locking his gaze with hers. "But yeah. He was there. Have you… heard from him?" Dropping the last bit of his burger into the box on his lap, he leans toward her, reaching out to pat her knee just once.

Her eyes flit back and forth between them, blood pounding in her ears too fast, too loud for her to be sure she's heard correctly. But their expressions are apologetic, morphing slowly into ones of sadness as she stays quiet. She clears her throat, swallowing the knot lodged around her vocal cords.

"He's back?"

"I guess that's a no then," Ryan mutters, glaring at his partner, and Espo shrugs before he turns back to her.

"Don't worry, Beckett. We've got your back. Totally froze him out for leaving the way he did."

"I can't believe he didn't call."

"Right? Or come visit when he got back."

"Or send us a copy of his book. He's probably done with it if he's back, right?"

"Yeah."

Her gaze swings back and forth between them, neither seeming to notice that she's not actually participating in their conversation, and each word they say reminds her that she's here and Castle isn't.

That he's returned to the city. That he didn't care enough to call her when she'd asked him to. That she's pushed him so far out of reach and now she'll never get him back.

Her whole body aches, her heart pounding hard in her chest, and she clenches her fists, desperate for them to stop talking, to stop digging the knife in further. She can't take it anymore.

"Stop pining over your girlfriend. There's work to do."

Frustration races through her veins, irrational anger burning and twisting around her heart, and, standing from the chair, she dumps her trash into the wastebasket at Ryan's desk, spinning on her heel to grab her milkshake and go back to the murder board.

The boys are quiet when they join her - Esposito on her left and Ryan on her right - their frowns and downcast eyes acting as their apology, and she takes a deep breath, counting to five before she acknowledges them.

"I'm fine, Guys. Just let it go so we can solve this case and go home."

* * *

It's after ten by the time she stumbles through her apartment door that evening, but they'd had a break in the case, and she'd ended the day with a signed confession. And now all she wants to do is sleep. The paperwork will wait until tomorrow.

News of Castle's return to the city had kept her on edge all afternoon, a constant internal debate about whether or not she was actually going to try calling him tonight waging between the parts of her job she was supposed to be focusing on.

She's finally decided not to, although the choice makes her cringe at her own cowardice, her own hesitance. It's late and she's exhausted. It, too, can wait until morning.

Dumping all of her stuff on the couch, she heads into the kitchen for a glass of water and some food. She turns on the tap, allowing the cool liquid to fill her cup, before downing the entire amount. Filling it once more, she flips off the light switch, the room falling into relative darkness as she heads into her bedroom.

She does her nightly routine, change of clothes, makeup removal, face washed, and teeth brushed, and, falling into bed, she closes her eyes, waiting for the blissful quiet of sleep to drag her under.

The silence of her bedroom, the darkness afforded by the drawn shades, soon has her drifting between sleep and wakefulness, her breathing slowing steadily.

The loud ring of her cell phone startles her back into full consciousness, and she fumbles in the bed, her bare legs tangled in the sheets, as she reaches for the bright device, desperate to shut the damn thing up. Her eyes close when she looks directly at the screen, the light immediately blinding her with little white stars that dance in her vision, but somehow she gets it answered, allowing the silence of the room to descend once again.

"Beckett." Her voice is gravely, still rough with the edges of sleep.

"Kate?"

The sound of the young girl's voice has Kate's eyes shooting back open, her blood thrumming with awareness as she rips the sheets from her body.

"Alexis?"

"Kate. I need your help."

* * *

_Thank you for all the follows, favorites, and reviews._

_Kylie and Jo, thank you for all your love and support. xx_


	8. Chapter 8

_Previously..._

_The loud ring of her cell phone startles her back into full consciousness, and she fumbles in the bed, her bare legs tangled within her sheets, as she reaches for the bright device, desperate to shut the damn thing up. Her eyes close when she looks directly at the screen, the light immediately blinding her with little white stars that dance in her vision, but somehow she gets it answered, allowing the silence of the room to descend once again. _

"_Beckett." Her voice is gravely, still rough with the edges of sleep._

"_Kate?" _

_The sound of the young girl's voice has Kate's eyes shooting back open, her blood thrumming with awareness as she rips the sheets from her body._

"_Alexis?"_

"_Kate. I need your help."_

* * *

Kate falls from the bed, trying and failing to get her feet in place against the floor, groaning when her hip slams into the wood. That's going to leave a mark.

"Alexis? What's wrong? Where are you?"

A steady beat of techno music roars through the phone, drowning out the quiet tin of Alexis' voice, and panic flares. Standing, she drags her jeans up each leg, throws a t-shirt over her head, and, trying to filter out the background noise, she stills to hear Alexis clearer.

"Alexis, I can't understand you over the music. Can you move somewhere quieter?"

"Okay. Yeah, okay. Hold on."

The sound of the girl's stuttered breathing buried under the obnoxious music is all Kate can hear until a door slams and the volume instantly drops to a quieter buzz.

"Is that better?"

"Yes. Where are you, Alexis?"

"I'm at a party in Washington Heights." Alexis' words are slurred, slower and garbled, and Kate shakes her head. The girl is clearly drunk.

Drunk and in a completely inappropriate part of town for this time of night.

"Shit. Alexis."

"No. No, Kate. I'm fine. I just… I came with some friends, but it's getting a little crazy. Not completely crazy. Well, a little crazy. I'm sorry it's so late. God, it's so late. I'm sorry. Never mind. I'll be-"

"Alexis!" Kate yells, interrupting the girl's rambling. "What's the address? I'll be there as soon as I can."

"No. No, I promise. I'm fine. I shouldn't have called. I'll just catch a-"

Kate's eyes roll, blowing out a frustrated breath. She ties her shoes, her phone tucked between her ear and shoulder, and cuts Alexis off again. "You'll do no such thing. I'm already on my way. What's the address?" Securing her gun in its holster, her badge already tucked into the waistband of her jeans, she grabs her keys and slips out the door, locking it behind her.

* * *

Pulling up in front of the nondescript abandoned warehouse, Kate tugs a hand through her hair. The same music from the phone call blasts from the building, every window open to the night air, silhouettes of countless bodies leaning on each sill. Lights flash from the top three floors, red to blue to green to yellow, painting the colors across the darkened sky.

She'll need to call this in, no question about that, but, despite her better judgment, her desire to get Alexis out first overrides all common sense.

Taking a deep breath, she zips her black leather jacket up to her neck, and, stepping out of the car, she crosses the street, peering up at the building. Alexis - hopefully - should be somewhere near the party to have the safety of numbers but far enough away to avoid running into anyone. Choosing the stairwell closest to the front door, Kate begins her search.

On the second floor landing she passes a couple, who can't be older than eighteen, making out and grinding against each other, but she looks away, focused on finding Alexis and getting the hell out of here as fast as possible.

The next three landings are clear, but the sixth floor stairwell door is propped open with a red brick, music blasting so loud that when she calls out for Alexis, she can't even hear the sound of her own voice. A strobe light starts up, throwing blinding white light in every direction, making it impossible to see anything clearly, but she presses on, determined even as anger begins to simmer in her veins.

Anger with Alexis' completely unexplained behavior. Anger at being dragged into this mess where she's putting her badge - her career - on the line.

But who is she kidding? This is Castle's daughter, and she'll walk that fine line around her job and her morals, choosing Alexis' safety every time.

The floor is clear of redheads, and Kate edges through to the stairwell on the opposite side of the building, squeezing through the mass of bodies, to glare over the railing in case Alexis is hiding out down below.

"Alexis?"

She receives no answer, but the area is dark, each floor almost impossible to see under the constantly changing lights from the party, and she begins the slow descent down.

"Alexis, are you down here?"

"Kate?"

She startles at the muffled sound, taking the steps two at a time until she reaches the third floor where she finds Alexis scrunched into the corner, her stocking clad legs folded up underneath her. Kate falls to her knees in front of the girl, reaching out to tuck a messy lock of red hair behind her ear, her heart racing as Alexis looks up, her eyes blood shot and red rimmed.

"What the hell are you doing here, Alexis?"

"Please, spare me the lecture until I stop seeing five of you." She puts her hand up, shaking it from side to side. "I can barely hear anything over the ringing and the whole room is spinning around me."

"Shit. Come on. Get up. It's time to go."

Grabbing ahold of the girl's hand, Kate pulls her into her arms, drags her toward the staircase, but Alexis tugs back and a growl escapes. What is it now?

"Wait. I can't leave without my friends."

Kate jerks away, her patience reaching its breaking point, and then, as Alexis sways dangerously, she reaches forward again, getting a tighter grip on the younger girl's shoulders. "You can and you will. You brought me into this so now you get to deal with the consequences."

The icy tone of her voice leaves no room for negotiation, and, thankfully, Alexis nods, her bottom lip quivering as tears form in her eyes.

"Okay. Yeah. I'm... Let's go."

* * *

When they reach the first floor landing Alexis stumbles, her heel catching on the last step, and Kate barely manages to keep her from slamming into the cement floor.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Alexis mutters, pushing through the alley door so hard, it crashes against the outer wall of the building. She lurches to the left, falling to her knees next to a foul smelling dumpster, and her body convulses, vomit landing onto the asphalt.

Chasing after her, Kate tugs the girl's long red hair out of the way, twisting the strands into a knot at the base of her neck as Alexis empties her stomach. Tugging the hair tie from around her wrist - she silently thanks the universe that she'd left it there before going to bed - she twists it around Alexis' hair, allowing the cool night air access.

They eventually make it back to the car and Kate settles Alexis in the front seat, strapping the seat belt in place. "I have to make a call-"

Alexis startles, her body pushing up against the belt, her hand grabbing Kate's. Her eyes widen, the panic clear, as is the desperation coating her words. "No! No! Please don't call my dad. He'll never let me out of his sight again if he knows. Please, Kate!"

"Hey, shh. It's okay." Encouraging Alexis back into the car, Kate cups the girl's cheek with her left hand, rubbing a thumb under her eye. "I'm calling Esposito right now. It'll just take a minute so close your eyes and relax, okay?"

"Okay. But please don't call my dad."

"I'm not." Not right now anyway.

Standing up straight, Kate shuts the car door, and, walking around to lean against the hood, she looks back at the building. The party rages on, full of young people doing things they shouldn't be, and she unlocks her phone, selecting Espo's name from her contacts.

It rings three times before his scratchy voice comes across the line, and Kate winces. She definitely woke him.

"Esposito."

"Hey, Espo."

"Beckett? What's wrong?" He's already alert; years of practice from middle of the night body drops have taught them how to jump from dead asleep to wide awake in seconds, and Kate sighs, hating what she's about to ask him.

"Nothing. I'm okay, but I need your help. I'm at a rave in Washington Heights. Gonna call it in but I need you to come down here to wait for Vice to show up."

"What? Beckett, it's midnight. Why can't you stay? And what are you even doing there?"

"I have Alexis."

"What?! What the hell is Little Castle doing at a rave in Washington Heights?"

She shakes her head; the same question has been running through her brain on a constant loop since she'd received the phone call. "I don't know, but I'm taking her back to my place. Can you come down here or not?"

His sigh echoes through the phone line, and she holds her breath.

"Please, Javi. I need to get her out of here."

"Dammit, Kate. You owe me for this. Text me the address and I'll be there soon."

* * *

Alexis falls asleep on the drive back, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm with each breath in and out. Watching her at every opportunity, Kate wracks her brain, trying to come up with an explanation for this.

Except she hasn't spoken to Castle in weeks, hasn't spent time with Alexis in months, and she has no idea what's been happening in either of their lives.

No idea why she's even involved in the first place. Why did Alexis call her instead of her own father?

Stopping at a red light, Kate swings her gaze back to the sleeping girl, studying her slack face, her tangled red hair. Her skin is pale, paler than Kate's ever seen, veins visible along her temple and under her eyes. She hasn't been sleeping well, clearly, if the dark circles are anything to go by, and Kate shakes her head, hitting the gas pedal when the light turns green.

She may not know much, but she is absolutely certain of one thing; avoiding Castle is no longer an option.

* * *

"Hey. Alexis." Kate pushes gently on the girl's shoulder, watching her face for signs of consciousness. "Wake up."

The process is slow. Her nose wrinkles, absolute displeasure at being disturbed evident in the lines appearing in her skin, and she rubs her cheek against the leather of her seat. When her eyes open, she catches Kate's gaze, her brows furrowing in clear confusion, and she startles awake the rest of the way, her head turning from side to side as she takes in her surroundings.

Kate waits for her to get her bearings, sits quietly in the driver's seat until Alexis looks over, the silent question burning in her eyes.

"We're at my apartment. You're staying with me tonight."

Kate steps out of the car - she's not getting into an argument over this - coming around the front bumper to open the passenger door to help Alexis step out onto the sidewalk. The girl is still shaky, her legs unstable with whatever substances she's consumed tonight, and Kate gets a firmer hold on her arm, keeping her from losing her balance.

Alexis is quiet the entire way to the apartment, following along diligently as Kate leads them up four flights of stairs and down a corridor of plain wooden doors, stopping outside number eight. Slipping the key into the lock, Kate swings the door wide, dragging Alexis out of the brightly lit hallway and into the dimmer lighting of the living room.

"Kate. You don't have to do this."

She looks over her shoulder to see the girl standing by the front door, her arms wrapped around her middle, face still pale with the remnants of being sick at the party.

"But I am. Go to the bathroom." She points to the open door off the short hallway. "Wash your face. You'll find a fresh tooth brush under the sink and a towel in the cabinet by the tub, and I'll bring you some clean clothes to sleep in."

"Thank you."

Kate nods, turning into the kitchen for some water. She hears Alexis move across the room, the soft click of the door as she does as she's been told, and then - only then - does Kate breathe out a sigh of relief.

This could have been so much worse. Who knows what would have happened if Alexis hadn't called. Or if Kate had been too late getting there. The images flash in her mind; Alexis so drunk she couldn't defend herself from unwelcome advances, so drunk she'd passed out at the party, subsequently left behind by her friends, or so drunk she'd gotten sick from alcohol poisoning, left to choke on her own vomit, the noises from the party enough to hide her until too late.

"Shit. Shit." Kate scrubs her hands over her forehead, checking the clock on the microwave. Almost one am. She grabs two water bottles from the fridge, taking a swig from hers, and heads into the bedroom for some clothes.

Tugging a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants from her dresser, she knocks on the closed bathroom door. "Alexis…" Kate pushes the door open just a little before she continues, "Hey, I've got some clothes for you and a bottle of water."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Mmmhmm."

* * *

Kate paces in the living room, her cell phone in hand, and, pressing her index finger to his name, she brings it up to her ear. Her heart pounds, a nervousness washing over her so fast she starts to sweat, but the call goes straight to his voicemail.

Pulling the phone back into her line of sight, she disconnects, and then presses his name again.

But, once more, it's his voicemail that greets her instead of him.

"Hey, Castle. It's Beckett. Again. Look, I really need to talk to you. I have Alexis at my apartment. She's fine but she called me from a party tonight, one that was getting pretty out of hand… She's drunk, Castle. Wasted, really." Kate pauses, not sure what else to say, and she closes her eyes, leaning back against the wall. Sliding down to the floor, she folds her legs up in front of her chest, resting her forehead against her knees, unable to stay upright under the weight of this whole situation. "Castle, I know you're mad at me. I know you don't want to talk to me, but this is about your daughter. Please, call me."

Ending the call, she drops the phone to the floor next to her, coiling her arms around her legs. This is… terrible.

"Kate?"

She jumps at the girl's voice, the world spinning as her head jerks up to see Alexis standing there, bare toes curled against the wood, body draped in the oversized clothing, the half empty water bottle dangling from her fingers. She's brushed her hair, scrubbed her face free of makeup, and she looks too young, too innocent for what went on tonight.

Alexis twists the hem of her shirt around her fingers. "Are you okay?"

Hoisting herself back to her feet, Kate nods. "Yeah. I'm just tired. Come on, let's get you in bed."

Alexis trails her to the couch, silent as Kate unfolds the blankets and fluffs the pillows. "I hope this'll be okay-"

"It's perfect. Thank you." Alexis sits on the couch, her blue eyes clearer, her movements more fluid - cleaning up seems to have sobered her a little - and Kate struggles with what to say next. It's not exactly her place to be disappointed in Alexis' recent choices, but she also can't stand by while the girl keeps getting into this kind of trouble. There's no telling what will happen next.

Taking a deep breath, she sits on the coffee table, their knees knocking together at the close proximity.

"Alexis, what is going on with you?"

She looks away, her face hardening into a stubborn mask, but Kate waits her out.

Finally, swinging her gaze back, Alexis speaks. "I'm not here for a lecture. I know I made a mistake tonight, and I appreciate you helping me out. But I don't have anything else to say. I'll be gone tomorrow, out of your life again so don't worry about it."

Kate watches, dumbfounded, as Alexis lies down, facing away, and tugs the blankets up around her shoulders.

"Goodnight, Detective," she mumbles.

Unsure of where the line is, Kate gives in - at least for tonight - and whispers back, "Goodnight, Alexis."

She goes to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her, and falls into bed. Tomorrow, when Alexis has slept off the night's festivities, she'll try again, because no matter what role she has or doesn't have in the girl's life, she's completely unwilling to let this go without an explanation.

* * *

_Thank you to Kylie and Jo for the beta, and to all of you, dear readers, for sticking with me._


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Kate's alarm sounds at six-thirty am, the obnoxious beep startling her out of a deep slumber, and, rolling to her back, she pushes the blankets down to her waist, rubs her eyes, forcing the black oblivion of sleep to release its clutches on her mind. She stretches her arms above her head, arching her back off the bed and flexing her feet when the events of last night come crashing back.

She has to head into work today, get started on the paperwork for the Robertson case, but she has to deal with Alexis first. Has to figure out how to get the girl to open up, to answer her questions, to tell her why she's making these uncharacteristic decisions.

Kate remembers what it was like to be a teenager, of course. She remembers how she'd rebelled against her parents, not because they had done anything wrong, but because Kate had decided she was adult enough to do what she'd wanted, to go where she'd wanted, and with who she'd wanted, despite what her parents had said. And the more they'd tried to pull her back, the more she'd pushed away.

It wasn't malicious. No. It wasn't to hurt them or to send them some sort of subliminal message about how terrible they were as parents. Because they weren't. Terrible, that is. They were the opposite, and that fact had given Kate the confidence, however misguided it was, to push her boundaries, to test her limits.

And perhaps, that's what Alexis is doing now. She's sixteen, and up until this point she's been the model child. Straight A's, a sweet disposition, responsible. She's about due for a typical teenage rebellion, but the question is, how does Kate get her to stop fighting? To stop running straight into this kind of danger?

She sighs, still lying on her back, her gaze unfocused and hazy. She may not know the answer to that question but she does know that she isn't going to find it printed on her bedroom ceiling.

Sliding out from between the sheets, Kate grabs her bathrobe, tying it around herself as she leaves the room, heading for the kitchen, for coffee and Alexis. The apartment is quiet and still, and she pauses at the end of the hallway, frozen in place when she sees the couch.

The empty couch.

The blanket is folded and placed at one end, the pillow resting on top. Looking around the space, Kate searches for her, but there's nothing. No flash of red hair, barely any sign that the girl was there in the first place.

Going to the kitchen, Kate checks each countertop, hunts for a note, a message of some kind, anything to tell her where Alexis has gone or that she'll be back soon, but the space is untouched, every surface as clean and bare as it was the night before.

Frustration leaks from her shaking hands, anger rippling across her skin because, of course, Alexis didn't stick around to talk. Of course she snuck out before having to face the music. Rushing back to her room, Kate swipes her phone off the nightstand, pulling up Alexis' name in her contacts while taking note of the fact that Castle never called back.

She brings the cell to her ear, listening to three rings before the girl's voicemail begins. "Damn it," Kate growls into the silence of the room, smacking her fist against the side of her thigh.

What is it with this family and never answering their phones?

Ending the call, she tries Castle instead. She's expecting the same result, and she's not surprised when it goes straight to his voicemail once again. She's fuming, beyond angry with both Castles, and she drops her phone to her bed, tearing her clothes from her body before she hurries into the bathroom for a quick shower.

This is verging on ridiculous and she refuses to be brushed off any longer. She's going to the loft, she'll stand there all damn day banging on the door until he answers, and then she'll force him to talk to her, to figure this out with her.

She's done being ignored.

* * *

Castle rolls over in bed, burying his face in the pillow, and, pulling the blankets up over his head, he ignores the call of day. It's too bright, and, after staying up last night to write, it's also way too early. Squeezing his eyes closed, he begins counting imaginary Yodas hopping over a fence in the hopes that he'll fall back to sleep, but several minutes later he's still wide awake.

He may as well give up.

Flopping the blankets down, he exposes his upper body to the cool air conditioning, and, as he turns his head toward the clock, a groan escapes. Seven am. It's as he thought. Way too early to be awake, but… Is that…? Oh, it is. The smell of coffee permeates the room, wafting in through the open bookshelves, and he grins. Nothing like a fresh cup to jump-start his day.

Crawling out of bed, he grabs a Forbidden Planet t-shirt from his dresser as he passes, tugging the worn cotton over his head, and then running his fingers through his hair, he attempts to flatten the unruly strands.

The curtains in his office are wide open, allowing the brilliant sunshine in to warm the wooden floorboards, lighting up every nook and cranny, and, stopping, he notices his phone half buried under a pile of papers next to his laptop.

"Hmm."

He grabs the device off the desk, hitting the home button to check for missed calls, but the screen stays dark. Holding the power button down, he groans when the dead battery image appears on the screen for a moment before it goes black again.

Of course.

Spinning in a circle, he tries to remember where he last left the charging cable. It's not on the desk anywhere, so he returns to the bedroom, spotting the white cord dangling over the edge of his nightstand.

With fingers that only just work, he plugs the phone in, waiting for the charging image to appear before he holds the power button down again. This time it begins to boot up, and he drops it to the dark wood surface.

Coffee. Coffee first. The rest of the world will wait.

* * *

He sits on the edge of his bed, taking a large gulp of his coffee before setting the mug down and reaching for his cell. The display announces one new voicemail from Kate Beckett and his movements stop, his hands trembling as he reads her name over and over.

He's frozen in time, his brain unable to send commands to the rest of his body, until the screen goes dark from inaction, snapping him out of his stupor. Hitting the home key again, he selects her voicemail, and, taking a deep breath, he brings the device to his ear.

"Hey, Castle. It's Beckett. Again. Look, I really need to talk to you. I have Alexis at my apartment. She's fine but she called me from a party tonight, one that was getting pretty out of hand… She's drunk, Castle. Wasted, really." Her voice stops there, and he realizes he's shaking, whether with rage or anxiety he isn't sure. "Castle, I know you're mad at me. I know you don't want to talk to me, but this is about your daughter. Please, call me."

The line goes silent, her message completed, and he drops his hand to his lap. Staring off into space, his mouth opens in shock and disbelief, and he's unsure of what fact he needs to focus on first.

His baby girl had been drunk at a party in the city in the middle of the week when she should have been asleep in her dorm at Princeton. And, on top of that, the party she'd been at had become so bad that she'd called Beckett to get her out. Called Beckett instead of him.

Picking his phone back up, he returns her call without a second thought. Getting to Alexis begins and ends with Kate, and he pushes away the nervousness of speaking to her for the first time in months. This isn't about them anymore.

* * *

Kate's slipping on her shoes, grabbing her bag and keys to run out the door when her ringtone slices through the silence of her apartment, stopping her movements. She drops everything to the floor right where she's standing, rips her phone out of her pocket, and, letting out a relieved sigh, she stares at the screen.

Castle.

"Finally, Castle. Where have you been? Why didn't you return any of my calls?"

"Well, hello to you too, Beckett. And I am returning your call. I just got the message."

"Oh."

Kate pauses, rolling her eyes as she chews on a thumbnail. There are so many things that need to be said and they're all fighting for their place at the top of the list, but, before she can open her mouth, decide which one wins, his voice floats through the speaker.

"Let me talk to my daughter."

"Ummm. She's not here. That's actually-"

"What do you mean she isn't there, Beckett? You called. You said you had her."

His voice rises, disbelief coating his words, and she curls her free hand into a fist, her nails leaving crescent shaped marks in her palms. She shakes her head because he is absolutely _not_ about to blame her for this mess.

"She was asleep on my couch when I went to bed last night and gone when I woke up this morning. No note or anything-"

"Did you try calling her?"

"Stop interrupting me," she growls, her irritation beginning to boil over. "And of course I called her, Castle. She didn't answer."

"Well why did she call you instead of me?"

"Are you kidding me? That's your take away from this? I have no idea why she called me. Maybe she got your voicemail. Or," The anger roars out of her all at once. Anger at how hard she's been fighting to make things right with Castle, all for nothing, because every step ends up being in the wrong direction. "Maybe it's because you've been too busy screwing your ex-wife in the Hamptons all summer and she needed someone she could count on."

The line is silent, only the sound of his breathing echoes in her ear, and she closes her eyes, covering her mouth with her hand. She didn't mean to say that, didn't mean to let the malice in her words and the incompetence that's burning through her veins escape. This isn't about them.

"Castle-" she starts, but he interrupts one more time, his voice cold, dripping with rage that rips her chest open, exposing her vulnerable places to the piercing bite of finality.

"Thanks for looking after her last night, but I'll take it from here. Goodbye, Beckett."

He's gone before she has a chance to take it back, lonely silence filling her apartment again, and, dropping the phone from her ear, she shakes her head. A tangled mess of fury and shame snakes its way through her, but she pushes the shame away. She's not interested in trying to protect his fragile heart or his even more fragile ego, and she's not wrong for speaking the truth, no matter how crude the words.

Alexis made the right decision last night when she called Kate instead of Castle, since he apparently wouldn't have even known she was in trouble until this morning. The number of things that could have gone wrong if the girl had only called her father are staggering, and they only add fuel to the fire in Beckett's heart.

If he wants to be jealous or embarrassed about his daughter's choices then that's his problem, not hers, and she won't apologize for stepping up when Alexis needed someone.

Slipping her phone back in her pocket, she picks up her bag, tugging the strap over her shoulder, and, with her head held high, she walks out her front door. She's going to work, going back to her life. Neither Castle family member seems to need or want her involvement anymore, and she's got better things to do than fight for a place that doesn't exist.

* * *

_Thank you Kylie and Jo for all that you do. xo_


End file.
